


Dream Come True

by galactic-pirates (stillsearching47)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mantis Menagerie Fic Exchange 2017, Mayday Menagerie, Sleeping Beauty Elements, True Love's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 15:56:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10970550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillsearching47/pseuds/galactic-pirates
Summary: Written forMayday Menagerie.  Avonlea is burning. Entire villages wiped out, one by one, as Maleficent in dragon form rains down destruction from the sky.  A war party is dispatched; their broken and shattered corpses returned with a puff of magical smoke. Several brave knights set out, seeking to became dragonslayers, but none return alive. Princess Belle decides it's time for a different approach. She goes into battle not with a sword but with her compassion and a pouch of fairy dust.  Belle strikes a deal with Maleficent. Her kingdom, her friends, and her family will all live if Maleficent gets one last act of revenge. Belle willingly goes under the sleeping curse, facing eternal sleep; her only hope is thatsomeday her prince will come...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tinuviel_Undomiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinuviel_Undomiel/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is very much a group effort really because I couldn’t have done it without the help and support of _little-inkstone_ and _worryinglyinnocent_ , but especially _mariequitecontrarie_ who beta read the first two chapters and gave me a shot of hope when I really needed it. Any mistakes are mine. I hope that you’ll enjoy the fic!

Belle paused and took a lungful of crisp mountain air. She turned, steadying herself against the rock face, and looked down at the world below. From this perspective, Avonlea was laid out like a painting, little tiny doll-sized villages and matchstick forests. On the horizon she could see the ocean, the lifeblood of her kingdom, bringing trade and prosperity through the ports. It should be a beautiful sight, the kingdom she loved before her, but the smoke spiraling up into the sky cast a somber pall over her heart..

There were so many dead. Entire villages wiped out, one by one, as Maleficent in dragon form rained down destruction from the sky. Fire and claws and roars of pure fury were reported by the pitiful few survivors who managed to escape into the forest and avoid her wrath. A war party had been dispatched; their broken and shattered corpses had been returned with a puff of magical smoke. Several brave knights had attempted to defend Avonlea, seeking to became dragonslayers and earn their place in legend. All had perished, as the death toll increased daily and Maleficent’s attacks grew closer and closer to the palace.

Belle’s father, King Maurice, wanted to evacuate her and her mother to another palace but Belle had slipped out of the side gate instead. Her kingdom was in peril, and if the strongest knights in the land had failed, then it was past time for a different approach. Belle knew she was probably hiking to her death, that Maleficent would tear her to pieces with glee, but she had to try. She had a duty to her people. She was their future queen, and she had to protect them no matter the price to be paid. If her life was the price, so be it - Avonlea was worth _any_ sacrifice.

Belle would rather die on her feet, fighting for what was right, than hide away in her castle and let her people die for her. Maybe it was a cliché, maybe it sounded ridiculous, but it was true. Belle took one last moment to drink in the sight of her beloved kingdom, before turning back to the mountainous rock, determination etched on her face. Maleficent’s castle was built into the side of a mountain. It was a treacherous climb, forcing would-be challengers to face great danger before they even came face-to-face with the dragon witch.

By the time she reached the top, her muscles were shaking from the unaccustomed exertion. Her walks around the palace grounds and her regular horse riding trips, hadn’t prepared her for this. She’d had to liberate the clothing she was wearing as her father would never have allowed such items to be found in her wardrobe. Even when riding she was required to wear a gown, not the practical riding trousers and boots she’d taken from the stables. Her jerkin she’d sewed herself, stripping a crushed maroon velvet gown; it was hardly ideal but she had freedom of movement and that’s what mattered.

“Maleficent,” Belle shouted, raising her head in defiance and striding through the open doors into the shadowy depths of the castle.

She shivered; it was cold inside, the stone leeching away all the heat from the morning sun. Belle’s hand hovered over the dagger she had thrust into her makeshift belt, but she didn’t draw it. What good would a dagger be against a dragon? The main room of the castle was enormous, with great stone pillars at regular intervals to hold up the immense ceiling. It was impressive, especially given the location, and Belle wondered if it had been built by magic.

There was a rustling noise, and through the gloom, Belle saw an orange glow brighten. A roar of flame hit the fireplace, igniting the kindling with a whoosh and illuminating the room. Belle swallowed, seeing the black scales ripple over sinewy muscle. Maleficent’s dragon eyes gleamed in the firelight, and the acrid smell of smoke permeated the air.

“I am Princess Belle of Avonlea.” Belle raised her hands, showing that they were empty. “On behalf of the crown, I wish to discuss options for peace.”

A slight rumbling was the only warning before a jet of flame surged towards her. She dove to one side, landing on the floor and she half-crawled behind a pillar, her heart pounding in her chest. _You’re ok,_ she told herself, settling her rapid heartbeat. She had expected this, she had prepared for this. The ground shook and pitched as Maleficent moved. Belle twisted, avoiding Maleficent’s deadly talons, and ran fishing in her pocket for the pouch that would save her - that would save Avonlea.

The scale of the castle made sense given the size of Maleficent as a dragon and Belle used it to her advantage. She was smaller and had more maneuverability, she could twist and turn in between the pillars. It was unfortunate there weren’t areas too small for the dragon because then she could have used her size to help her evade. However, the goal wasn’t to escape Maleficent completely, so it was perhaps just as well.

There was a rush of heat behind her, as she barely missed another jet of fire, but Maleficent was between two pillars now. Belle’s chest burned with the need for oxygen, but adrenaline coursed through her veins. Maleficent tried to follow her, bumping into a pillar and sending stone crashing to the ground, bit it was too little too late. Safe from her claws and her flame, Belle threw the pouch at Maleficent’s flank. It exploded, sending dust all over the dragon.

With a puff of swirling purple smoke, where the dragon had been now lay a stunned woman. She was dressed all in black, with a horned headdress - Maleficent the witch.

Belle’s skin was slick with sweat, her hair plastered to her forehead, and her chest heaved as she panted for breath. The fight, if you could call it that, had only lasted for a minute, but she felt like it had been much longer. As the adrenaline wore off Belle winced, feeling her elbows and knees start to sting from where she had hit the ground.

Still Belle didn’t draw her dagger. Instead she stopped and looked at Maleficent who glared at her in return.

“Aren’t you going to finish me?” Maleficent groaned, pulling herself along the floor, towards her throne, with one arm.

The fairy dust hadn’t just forced her to transform back into human form, it had also weakened her magic temporarily, a weakness which was also manifesting itself physically. She was helpless. Belle pursed her lips, she would never get a better chance to kill Maleficent, but there had been so much death already.

“I came here to make peace, not to kill you,” Belle told her.

Maleficent levered herself up, sitting on the steps before her throne, and rolled her eyes. “Oh I see, the little princess fancies herself a hero, and heroes don’t kill. You are a foolish little girl.”

“Perhaps,” Belle acknowledged. “But death begets death and then where does it end? I know that my parents did something horrible to you. They won’t tell me what it was, but I can see the shame in their eyes and I am truly sorry for whatever you suffered.”

“Oh really?” Maleficent sneered, her eyes glittering with malice.

“Yes,” Belle stated. “But I have a duty to my people and this - what you are doing, it has to stop. Enough is enough.”

“Enough will never be enough,” Maleficent roared. “I won’t stop until I have my revenge, until they feel the pain I felt. You don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t and ...” Belle bit her tongue before she could continue.

She didn’t believe in revenge because it couldn’t change what had happened. It wasn’t logical to cause more suffering, but it was a pointless argument to make. Maleficent obviously believed in revenge, or they wouldn’t be here, and no amount of logic would sway her from her course.

“What would be enough?” Belle asked. “I am my parents’ only child and heir. If you wish to cause them pain, then take your revenge on me. Do whatever you wish, but let that be an end to it. I want your word, a magical oath, that your quest will stop. That Avonlea, my kingdom, my friends and my family, they will all live, that they won’t be harmed.”

Grimacing Maleficent hauled herself to her feet. “Foolish girl. I could kill you where you stand.” A fireball sparked weakly in her palm, before Maleficent closed her hand, snuffing it out. “But very well you have my word.”

“Your magical oath,” Belle corrected.

Maleficent’s eyes glittered but she nodded. “It’ll end with you.”

Belle felt the heavy weight of the magical promise settle around her shoulders, and she let out a breath of relief. The strangling bands of tension, loosened and she almost felt like laughing. Whatever the future held for her, and she was certain it was nothing good, she had succeeded in her quest. Her people would be safe, Avonlea would endure, and that was all that mattered.

“What now?” Belle asked, stepping forward bravely.

“Good revenge is an art form and for your sacrifice ... something traditional I think.” Maleficent waved her hand, and with a puff of magical smoke a spinning wheel appeared in front of Belle. “Just prick your finger dear and this will all be over.”

“Right.” Belle took a deep breath, glancing at Maleficent.

Belle had expected the dragon witch to gloat, but her expression wasn’t smug or vengeful, it was curious. It was almost like Maleficent couldn’t believe her eyes and Belle straightened, raising her chin in defiance. If Maleficent thought she wouldn’t honor their deal, then the witch was mistaken. Belle had given her word and she wasn’t about to break it.

“Ouch,” Belle muttered, as she pricked her finger on the spinning needle. The blood welled, and her last thought was that it didn’t sting as much as she had expected.

*****

“Well that was anticlimactic,” Rumplestiltskin quipped, skipping out from the shadows.

A spot of magic had rendered him invisible but clad in a dark dragonhide jacket and black leather pants, the shadows clung to him anyway. If there was one thing there was plenty of in Maleficent’s castle it was shadows to skulk around in. His unnatural greenish gold skin shimmered slightly from the dancing firelight.

“Quite,” Maleficent huffed, her lips pursed in disappointment. “Her willingness did rather steal all the satisfaction from it.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “How long have you been there?”

Rumplestiltskin studied his blackened nails. “Long enough, dearie. Quite a show,” he said with a giggle. “Imagine _you_ nearly being bested by a princess.”

He peered down at Belle, collapsed on the ground next to the spinning wheel. His eyes skipped over her, not missing a single detail; the ill-fitting borrowed riding pants and boots, the hastily sewn jerkin, the stolen dagger. Maleficent had summoned him to make a deal for an orb, it was a trifle really and he’d been pondering what price to demand, when the proximity wards had been tripped. Maleficent had cackled and transformed, preparing to roast the foolish knight who had come to try their hand.

Expecting a show, Rumplestiltskin had faded into the corner. Maleficent had decimated entire war parties, one moron with a sword wasn’t going to be a challenge. Instead, with a bit of compassion and ingenuity, Princess Belle had done what none of those idiotic knights had managed - she’d defeated Maleficent. Idly Rumplestiltskin wondered whether Maleficent understood the deal she’d made. Princess Belle hadn’t demanded that Maleficent stop burning villages, she’d taken an oath that nobody within Avonlea would be harmed. Maleficent was finished in Avonlea.

“Actually...” Rumplestiltskin dramatically clasped his chest with his palm. “You _were_ bested. She had you transformed, and magically helpless on the floor. One swift stroke of a sword and we wouldn’t be talking.”

Maleficent shot him a poisonous glare and Rumplestiltskin gave one of his trademark impish giggles. Maleficent knew better than to expect that he would have saved her. They were both considered villains by the residents of Misthaven, they had made a number of satisfactory deals over the years, and they had occasionally been allies of convenience. However, unless there was something in it for him, he didn’t make enemies. He wouldn’t have made an enemy of Avonlea to save her, and quite frankly if a slip of a girl had dispatched her, then Maleficent would have deserved her fate.

“This won’t do at all,” Maleficent decided, giving a lazy wave. Belle’s outfit transformed into a flowing golden gown and Maleficent nodded in satisfaction. “There, much more fitting for a princess.”

“All ready for her big moment,” Rumplestiltskin quipped.

“Quite,” Maleficent smirked.

Another flick of her fingers and Belle’s unconscious body was hovering in mid-air. Maleficent strode forward, Belle’s body at her side as she headed for the castles exit. Maleficent cackled and started to hum. Rumplestiltskin frowned, the melody sounded familiar and he giggled when he recognized it.

_Someday her prince will come._

*****

The deal with Maleficent was not happening today but Rumplestiltskin didn’t teleport away. He watched from the shadows as Maleficent constructed a small stone bier in the middle of a forest clearing. It didn’t take much magic to seal the clearing, apart from the archway entrance that she chose. One last puff of magical smoke, and several glowing balls of magic formed, darting up into the sky, streaking overhead to lead the search party to the Princess.

Maleficent had chosen her spot well. It was far enough away from Avonlea to afford privacy, a secluded oasis, which magic shaped to be suitably dramatic for her revenge. It was close enough to the main settlement of Avonlea, that neither of them would have to wait long. Few villains had patience, especially when it came to gloating. The first to arrive in the clearing were the searching knights. They blanched seeing the still form of their princess, and one fell over in fright, crab-walking backwards when Maleficent appeared.

“She is merely sleeping,” Maleficent said sibilantly. “It is a cursed sleep, unbreakable except when faced with true love. My revenge is complete.”

Maleficent gestured dramatically, enveloping herself in dark swirling smoke. Rumplestiltskin rubbed his fingers together; he should transport himself back to the Dark Castle, but he hesitated. He didn’t know why but he wanted to see this play out. The brave Princess had willingly sacrificed for her people, a concept he thought alien to those born into her position. He remembered the Duke of the Frontlands sending children off to war, not because it was necessary, but because it fattened his coffers. In his experience, rulers did whatever was best for them, and cared little for those who swore fealty to them.

Princess Belle was different and he was ... _curious_.

Rumplestiltskin peered around the clearing. Maleficent had made a show of disappearing but she would be here, she would want to witness every second of what she had wrought - this was her revenge after all. Sighing Rumplestiltskin settled himself on a log and pulled out his hip flask, taking a deep draw of the bitter liquid. As the Dark One he couldn’t get drunk on normal ale, but what his specially fermented brew lacked in taste, it made up in the punch it packed. It warmed him, fighting the chill in his veins that his memories had caused.

A carriage drew up, a full phalanx of knights on horseback surrounding it. Rumplestiltskin stiffened, his keen eyes watching as the steps were lowered and a finely dressed knight in a red jerkin assisted the king’s descent. Both the king and the knight strode over to the bier. Rumplestiltskin snorted, the sound hidden by his magic. King Maurice was wearing his full crown to visit the forest clearing where his daughter lay. The flowing dark purple cloak, trimmed with white fur, was more suited for a banquet than a fight. It wasn’t as if they knew that Belle had dealt to protect them, that Maleficent couldn’t touch them with claw or magic.

“Gaston, a sleeping curse, you are her betrothed, you know what to do.” Maurice noted, shaking his head. “Oh my girl, what a mess you’ve got yourself into now.”

“When we are married I assure you Maurice, nothing of this nature will happen again,” Gaston promised. “She’ll be safe and protected within the grounds of my estate.”

Maurice frowned and Rumplestiltskin smirked as Gaston gulped, realizing too late he had insulted his future father-in-law. “That isn’t your fault of course. It is unfortunate that so many of your staff are easily swayed by her smile. Quite what possessed Belle to do something this foolish ... I suspect her books to be at fault. I’ll soon put a stop to that as well.”

“She’s always been willful,” Maurice agreed.

Rumplestiltskin scowled. He didn’t wish to involve himself in this little drama, lest he be mistakenly blamed for what had occurred. However, they should know that Belle had secured their safety. They were talking about her as if she were incapable of making her own choices, and that unsettled him. It didn’t fit the brave Princess who had faced down Maleficent. Fortunately he didn’t have to say anything as Maleficent chose that moment to step out of the shadows.

Gaston immediately drew his sword. “Stay back, witch. You will pay for what you have done to Princess Belle.”

Maleficent snorted. “I did nothing that your dear Princess Belle didn’t ask for.”

Maleficent fixed ice-filled eyes on Maurice, who shifted uncomfortably and stared at the floor. “ _King_ Maurice I wish to inform you in person that my revenge against you, justified though it was, ends with your daughter. She dealt for the safety of your kingdom, you owe her your lives.”

“Avonlea is saved?” Gaston repeated in confusion.

“Yes, your pathetic little kingdom is safe from me.” Maleficent rolled her eyes and gestured to Belle. A smirk crossed her lips. “Now aren’t you going to try and wake your betrothed?”

Gaston shot Maleficent another wary glance and bent down, pressing his lips against Belle’s. Nothing happened. Rumplestiltskin wished he could say he was surprised but he wasn’t. Gaston pulled back, staring daggers at Maleficent.

“This is your fault; you’ve cursed her against me,” Gaston accused.

Maleficent studied her fingernails. “I did no such thing,” she drawled. “I did, however, suspect it would turn out this way. Perhaps you should try familial true love?”

Maurice cleared his throat. “Yes of course.” He bent his head and kissed Belle’s forehead, but there was no pulse of magic. His lip trembled as he stepped back. “Maybe her mother,” he suggested weakly.

“Perhaps.” Maleficent laughed, her eyes glittering with malice.

She disappeared in another swirl of smoke, and this time Rumplestiltskin thought she was gone for good. The show was over and her revenge was complete. His stomach twisted at the thought, but why? What did Belle and her plight mean to him? Nothing, it meant nothing.

*****

Shaking his head Rumplestiltskin vanished to the Dark Castle, determined to forget the odd events of the day but still his stomach twisted and churned. He wondered if imbibing vast quantities of liquor without food was the culprit but that was foolish indeed. As the Dark One his magic sustained him without food. In the beginning he had tried to keep to the habits of a normal man, because it made him more human, but without someone to remind him, it was easy to forget.

Princess Belle and Avonlea weren’t his concern, yet he couldn’t banish them from his mind. He checked back using mirror magic, not something he used often but it had it’s uses. There were dozens of mirrors in Avonlea’s royal castle, so it didn’t take long to discover that Belle’s mother, her childhood nurse, several simpering friends, and even a few ordinary citizens from her kingdom, had all tried to wake her from the curse. All had failed. It only made him wonder even more about this Princess who had offered herself to save her people, and yet received no love in return.

Maleficent had surely counted on this, as otherwise her revenge would have been short-lived. Instead it had turned into an object lesson for foolish heroes, revenge inside the wheel of revenge. Belle had sacrificed for her people. She was a hero, but nobody cared enough about _her_ for true love to spark and save her. The people of Avonlea, Belle’s parents, her betrothed, would claim that they loved her, but magic always knew the truth. Maybe they loved the idea of her, of the image they had of Belle in their minds, one that wasn’t true in reality.

“You are the worst kind of fool,” Rumplestiltskin growled to himself, as he contemplated his vials of magic dust.

He’d acquired some dream dust years ago in a deal long forgotten, but dust from the temple of Morpheus had been a valuable acquisition. He hadn’t needed it since, and he couldn’t foresee what he would need it for in the future, but that didn’t mean he should waste it. He was just bored that was all, he’d lived several lifetimes and there wasn’t much that could hold his attention these days. This was a novelty, the brave Princess saving her kingdom, going against archetypes.

It was curiosity, nothing more.

A week later, Rumplestiltskin’s resolve ran out. He stood over the bier, choosing to focus on Belle’s face, rather than her still and unmoving chest. She looked dead and it was an oddly disturbing thought. That somebody so brave, full of goodness and light, could be snuffed out like a candle. That was the nature of the light he supposed, and why darkness endured. Maleficent had done nice work to make Belle look the part for her big moment. The golden gown was flattering, his spinner’s eye noted that it suited her coloring. Her chestnut hair was twisted, curled over one shoulder, and her eyes were closed.

Rumplestiltskin’s eyes darted away from them, down to her pert red mouth, missing the brilliant blue that had sparked with cleverness and defiance. As lovely as Princess Belle looked in her gown, Rumplestiltskin couldn’t help but think she had looked equally as lovely in her mismatched adventurer gear. She had been brave, and that shouldn’t be erased in favor of fashioning her into a doll. Belle had the heart of a warrior, of a hero, she wasn’t some simpering Princess. He rolled his eyes, and stomped round the clearing, trying to rein in his thoughts. He was the Dark One, a villainous monster, what was he doing here waxing lyrical about a foolish girl? No matter how brilliant and brave, she was of no use to him.

He was here out of curiosity, nothing more.

What would such a brave princess encounter in the land of nightmares and regrets? He’d met many people who had called themselves heroes over the years, but they had all acted out of selfish motives. Belle was different, she cared. Rumplestiltskin growled, his blackened nails digging into the unnatural flesh of his palm. He was looking for a flaw, a way to reaffirm his view of the world, to tear Belle down and find her as selfish as any other.

He had always wanted to be a hero, but instead he’d been a coward; he’d ended the ogres war and received nothing but fear and scorn because of the means he used to achieve victory. What he had done, he’d done to save Bae, saving everyone else had been a happy accident. His motives had never been pure. He would always be the villain - always be the monster.

Before he could second guess himself again, Rumplestiltskin threw a small pinch of dream dust onto Belle’s unmoving body. He blinked and was transported into the dream world.


	2. Chapter 2

Rumplestiltskin didn’t know what he had expected, but Avonlea’s royal castle wasn’t it. He glanced around; he was in a bathing chamber, and thankfully the room was empty. The discrete servants’ doorway was closed, empty pails of water were stacked by the fireplace, which was laid ready but not burning. He took a step forward, the doorway into the royal quarters was ajar and he could hear the muffled sound of crying. He rolled his eyes, perhaps the flaw was easier to find than he had thought, if Princess Belle was so superficial that a life of luxury was a nightmare for her.

The snarky thought didn’t sit well with him, didn’t ring true with the image he had in his mind. Rumplestiltskin shook his head, the image he had in his mind was nothing but a brief impression which he’d no doubt embellished due to thinking about it so much. Meeting the fearless Princess again would no doubt destroy the illusion, his curiosity would then be sated and he could move on. Rumplestiltskin took another step forward and peered through the gap in the door.

Belle was sitting by the window, hunched over, her arms wrapped protectively around herself as she sobbed. She was bathed in light from the sun, a contrast to the darkness that concealed him in the bathing chamber. His fingers rubbed together nervously at his side, as he wondered what on earth had made her cry like this, and as he craned for a better look he nudged the door and it creaked. Belle’s head snapped up, staring in his direction.

“Who’s there?” Belle asked in alarm, a hand flying to her face to wipe away the evidence of her tears.

“Just a cleaner, dearie,” Rumplestiltskin called, cringing at the lie.

She was never going to buy that. Belle stood up and strode forward, trying to peer around the partially closed door. He took a step back and contemplated leaving. The dream dust would last an hour but he had control, he could leave earlier if he wished. Only the rarity and cost of the dust stayed his hand. He’d only just arrived after all and he still had questions. Primarily why was this a land of nightmares and regrets? Belle was dressed as a princess, she hadn’t been reduced to a maid, so what could be so terrible?

“Who are you? Come into the light,” Belle demanded.

Reluctantly Rumplestiltskin opened the door and stepped through into Belle’s chambers. He expected her to scream, to recoil at his beastly appearance, but she did neither of those things. Instead she frowned, cocking her head in confusion as she studied him.

“I don’t know you,” Belle opened. “What were you doing in my bathing chamber?”

“Rumplestiltskin.” Rumplestiltskin bowed with a flourish. “Also known as the Dark One. I presume you’ve heard of me.”

“Of course, you make deals, helping people get what they want for a price,” Belle summarized him frankly, and with a surprising lack of judgment or fear. “That doesn’t explain what you are doing in my bathing chamber.”

“If there’s one thing I know how to recognize, it’s a desperate soul.” Rumplestiltskin giggled.

His eyes gleamed as he gave himself over to the imp persona. It was an evasion but not necessarily untrue. Belle was supposed to be trapped in a nightmare world formed by her regrets, and so she _would_ be desperate. Belle’s lips twitched, a smile almost forming, and Rumplestiltskin had to work hard not to frown at her. She hadn’t appeared afraid of Maleficent either, did she have no sense of self-preservation? What an odd girl.

“Why aren’t you afraid of me? I could turn you into a toad!” Rumplestiltskin threatened.

Belle rolled her eyes. “If you had come to harm me, then you would already have done so. Would you like some tea?”

Rumplestiltskin blinked at the non-sequitur. He didn’t think he’d ever been offered tea in his life. People wanted whatever it was they wanted from him, and then they wished to shed themselves of his company as soon as possible. He supposed that business could be discussed over tea but it slowed everything down, and made for polite conversation. It was more of a social thing and _nobody_ wanted to socialize with the Dark One.

“I suppose I could spare a few minutes,” Rumplestiltskin agreed casually.

There were two armchairs under the window, surrounding a small circular table which contained a steaming teapot. He perched in the chair Belle had just vacated moments ago, slapping his thighs with his hands and waggling his eyebrows. He wanted to unsettle her, he wanted to put her off balance because he didn’t understand her. However, yet again whatever response he’d expected, he didn’t get. In fact he didn’t get a reaction at all. Belle bustled over to the corner, somehow managing to find a second teacup. She then poured the two cups, and sat in the other chair, as if she weren’t about to take tea with a monster.

“So what can bring a princess to tears? Let me guess: one of your pretty gowns has ripped,” Rumplestiltskin quipped. He waggled his fingers. “I could fix that, for a price.”

“My father accepted a betrothal offer; I’m to be married,” Belle told him, her lip trembling as she finished. She looked away and took a deep breath, getting ahold of herself.

“This is what you regret the most?” Rumplestiltskin asked, anger surging through him.

He had thought her betrothed an ignorant oaf, but he was typically handsome, large, and strong. The kind of knight most women would dream of marrying, and he’d made a fair few deals over the years with silly girls to help them make such a match. If Belle was reliving her engagement to Gaston as a living nightmare of her biggest regret, then what had he done to her?

“I wouldn’t necessarily phrase it like that but ...” Belle shrugged. “Is that not why you are here? You did say I was a desperate soul.” She shrugged again. “It matters not, it has been decided and all that remains is to make the best of it. I suppose I should be grateful, I could do a lot worse than Gaston.”

“Yet you regret agreeing to marry him?” Rumplestiltskin felt uneasy.

“ _I_ didn’t agree.” Belle said tartly. She sighed and took a sip of her tea. “I am my parents’ only child, I am the heir to the Avonlean throne. One day I will be Queen but with Gaston, it will only ever be a title. He’s ... traditional. I know I should count my blessings because he’s a nice enough man. I will be treated well enough, I just won’t be permitted an opinion. I will be a prisoner within my own kingdom.” Belle laughed softly, the sound far more broken than amused. “I have no idea why I am telling you this. I don’t expect you care for the petty troubles of a princess.”

Rumplestiltskin thought of what he had witnessed when Gaston and Belle’s father King Maurice had come to the bier and failed to kiss her awake. He thought about Belle boldly standing up to Maleficent and bargaining for her people’s safety. He was beginning to understand. The happiest he’d ever been was when he was poor as dirt, because even though he’d been starving and constantly afraid, he’d had Bae. Now, he was rich, and he had the power to get anything he desired, but he would trade it all for another day with his son. Being rich was definitely preferable to being poor, but a life that wasn’t your own was no kind of life at all. The desperate souls that called to him often wanted riches, Belle just wanted to be happy, and that was refreshing.

“You could walk away,” Rumplestiltskin suggested, a test to see if Belle truly meant what she said. Could she walk away from a life of luxury to regain the independence that she claimed meant so much?

“No I cannot.” Belle’s tone was final, as if she had considered and rejected all other possibilities. “I have a duty to my people. If there is anything I can do for them, then I must try. To walk away would be to shirk my responsibility, and I couldn’t live with myself if I was that selfish.”

“You said you wouldn’t be allowed an opinion,” Rumplestiltskin reminded her, unsettled yet again that Belle seemed to care so much for her people. Rulers took and took, they never gave.

Belle shrugged. “There are other ways; I could try and persuade. At least I would be here to fight, and Avonlea is worth fighting for. My father listens only to the council, he doesn’t walk among the people. I don’t live their lives, I can’t truly understand but I do try to listen, so that I can be their voice. We can’t always help but we at least should show the people we care. They deserve that much.”

“Did you learn this from your books?” Rumplestiltskin asked, trying for sarcastic but his tone was more interested.

She nodded. “Yes and from visiting the village, seeing how they live, which is a world apart from all of this.” Belle gestured to the opulence of her room.

Rumplestiltskin glanced around. It was at least twice the size of the hovel he’d called home. Paintings dressed in gilt golden frames adorned the walls; the wooden furniture was ornately carved and polished to a high sheen. Rich hangings surrounded the bed, obscuring the heavy comforter and soft sheets. This was only one room in a palace, filled with rooms some of which would be even more decadent than this.

“So what have you been reading that gave you such ideas, hmm?” Rumplestiltskin cackled but Belle’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm, rather than fear.

“There were several books but the first that really made me question what I had been taught, had a rather unfortunate title. It’s called _Her Handsome Hero_ and ...”

*****

He lasted three days.

Rumplestiltskin glared down at Belle, who was laying peaceful and unmoving on her bier, exactly as he left her. The dream dust was limited to an hour and to his surprise the hour had passed quickly. Belle was passionate about her books, and about her duty, the light only dimming in her eyes when her future was referenced. His curiosity should have been sated, he now knew what he wanted to discover - what regrets a princess had. However, it wasn’t enough, he wanted to see her again. Belle was like no-one he had ever met, she was so full of light, it seemed impossible that anyone could be that good.

Belle treated him like he was human, like he wasn’t the beastly Dark One, and in turn that made him _feel_ more human than he’d felt in decades. Rumplestiltskin was starting to suspect that Belle treated everyone the same, at least until their actions demanded a different approach. She spoke of compassion, of how you couldn’t tell what was in someone’s heart until you got to know them. In her eyes people were innocent until proven guilty, and that was such a novel concept in the Enchanted Forest that he was still struggling to believe it.

He had a vial of the dust. He could spare a second pinch. Before he could change his mind Rumplestiltskin sprinkled the dust on Belle, blinked and found himself in her quarters once again, thankfully not in the attached bathing chamber this time. He turned, seeing Belle look up at the sound of his dragon-hide cloak creaking as he moved. Her face lit up.

“You’re back!” Belle exclaimed.

“You remember?” Rumplestiltskin blurted out in surprise.

Belle’s brow creased in confusion. “Of course I remember.” She cocked her head on one side questioningly. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well ...” Rumplestiltskin faltered, groping for words.

Belle didn’t know she was in a dream world and he didn’t think he should tell her; he wasn’t sure what that would do to the magic. It probably wouldn’t do anything so long as she didn’t believe him, but if she did then that could cause problems. Belief was powerful and the last thing he wanted was to increase her suffering.

“I can’t ... I’m not sure ...” Belle shook her head. “It’s been many days ... I think.”

Rumplestiltskin gulped. “Yes ... well I’ve been busy, dearie. Lots of deals to be made, can’t be visiting Princesses for tea whenever the mood strikes.”

Belle’s lips curved into a smile. “So you’d like some tea?” She reached for the teapot, this time there were already two cups on the table.

“I don’t wish to intrude if you are expecting a guest. Perfect princesses shouldn’t entertain monsters,” Rumplestiltskin quipped, planting himself on the empty armchair in direct opposition to his words.

He still couldn’t work out why Belle was agreeing to have tea with him, perhaps her subconscious knew he wasn’t part of this dream world and it provided a respite for her. That was the problem with magic sometimes, observing it could change it, and he didn’t know what it was like when he wasn’t here. That might also explain why she was being so open with him, when he imagined that if this had happened in real life she’d have screamed.

“There’s no one else. Perhaps I knew you were coming.” Belle smiled, handing him his teacup. Her smile dimmed. “And I’m not perfect, I’d rather you didn’t call me that.”

“Why not?” Rumplestiltskin asked in a sing-song voice, hiding behind the imp to cover his unease. The emotion behind Belle’s muttered statement made him want to flee, even as the darkness perked up at the scent of weakness.

“Because it’s another form of trap isn’t it?” Belle remarked bitterly. “A way to make someone conform to an ideal, the perfect princess, the perfect wife, never straying from the mold, never allowed to be themselves. It’s a lot of pressure, nobody could live up to that.” Belle eyed him curiously. “The same with you I guess but in reverse. You keep calling yourself a monster, but there’s more to you than that.”

“Ah I see, you’re trying to discover the monster’s weaknesses,” Rumplestiltskin cackled. “You first dearie, how is the perfect princess not so perfect?”

Belle arched an eyebrow at him, she couldn’t have looked more unimpressed if she’d tried. “I’m _not_ perfect. I’m reckless, impulsive, controlled by my emotions. You’d think because I know this about myself I’d be able to work on it, but I can’t stop myself and sometimes I don’t even realize that’s what I’ve done. I’m often irrational ...”

“You’re human,” Rumplestiltskin interrupted.

“Exactly! That’s something we all need to remember about ourselves, and about everyone else. It’s when we lose sight of that forgiveness, compassion ...”

“Enough. Too much syrupy nonsense gives me indigestion,” Rumplestiltskin objected.

His self-hatred was comfortable and familiar and very well deserved. Recasting his mistakes in a more forgiving light was not something he should ever consider, that wasn’t meant for the likes of him. He was the Dark One, the monster, the villain, a tale to frighten children. He could never be anything more. He glanced over and accidently met Belle’s eyes, and then found he couldn’t look away. Nobody had looked at him like that, with honest curiosity and kindness, there had been no-one since Bae and it made his blackened heart ache.

“Fine then, why don’t you do the talking for a change,” Belle challenged. “You said you’d had deals to make, you must have travelled a lot. I’d love to see the world. I wish ...” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, could you tell me about it? About the places you’ve seen?”

“I suppose,” Rumplestiltskin agreed. He didn’t want to waste the dust after all and there was most of the hour left. “How about the first time I went to Agrabah?”

He only intended to tell her one story but Belle’s eyes were so bright, and at one point she grasped his hand, and his traitorous tongue kept talking. It was the most pleasant afternoon he’d spent in more than a hundred years. He kept a close eye on the time, eager to escape and simultaneously desperate to stay. When the hour was nearly up, Rumplestiltskin stood to leave feeling both relief and regret.

“I have to go now dearie,” Rumplestiltskin told her.

“You can’t stay a little longer?” Belle asked. She flushed. “It’s alright, I understand, but you’ll come back soon?”

“Perhaps, if I have nothing better to do,” Rumplestiltskin agreed with feigned nonchalance, grateful for the first time for his unnatural skin, as it saved him the indignity of being seen blushing.

Belle stood, moving towards him, and his fingers twitched in panic. He left the dream world behind with a pop, disguising the action with a swirl of smoke, so as to give the illusion he teleported. Rumplestiltskin cleared his throat and tugged on his jacket. It had almost seemed like Belle was going to ... he shook his head and transported himself back to the Dark Castle. It didn’t do to dwell on dreams.

*****

By his sixth visit, Rumplestiltskin didn’t bother with a token protest to his actions anymore. He was drawn to go back, he couldn’t help himself and he didn’t know why. His supply of dream dust was dwindling, and rather than mourn the loss of the powerful magic which he could have used, he was plotting how he could get some more so he could keep seeing Belle. She was right, she wasn’t perfect, just almost-perfect, and her imperfections made her more alluring.

“Rumple!” Belle exclaimed happily when he blinked into the dream world. “It’s been ... it’s good to see you. So what’ll it be today, hmm?”

“If you have the time, I have something for you,” Rumplestiltskin said.

He’d found that he couldn’t bring anything into the dream world with him. His clothes crossed over, but then that was probably because he’d never picture himself naked, it wasn’t a pretty sight. Nothing he carried came over, but magic could fix that. He was wary of using magic in the dreamscape, it took more power than in the real world, but the price was still within acceptable limits.

Rumplestiltskin clicked his fingers, producing a copy of a scroll that was safely back in the Dark Castle, and handed it to Belle. There wasn’t any tea but another wave of his hand refilled the pot. There were two cups on the tray, as there had been every time since his first visit. Belief was powerful, Belle didn’t know it but she was affecting the dreamscape around her. He had visited once, and they’d had tea, and so the teapot and the right number of cups had been available ever since.

They were skipping around in time, or more likely Belle was reliving the months over and over in between his visits. Sometimes it was early in her engagement, in others it was relatively close to the time she had been cursed asleep. Belle didn’t notice, time was a vague concept here and one he was careful not to draw attention to lest she realize her cursed state. He couldn’t think of anything worse than if Belle was aware she was trapped, ignorance could sometimes be bliss.

He flinched as Belle appeared at his side, well within his personal space. Her arm brushed against his as she held the scroll in front of her. Casually he side-stepped to put some distance between them, but all that did was move them a step across the room as Belle followed. Rumplestiltskin swallowed, for his last few visits the magic of the dream dust hadn’t dressed him in his dragonhide coat. Instead he’d appeared in just his silks, and the shirt was thin enough he could feel the warmth of her skin.

“Is this fairy language?” Belle asked, her eyes scanning the scroll.

“Yes I thought you’d find it interesting,” Rumplestiltskin admitted. “You mentioned last time you had an interest in languages.”

“I do yes, this seems to be talking about a ritual,” Belle murmured, most of her attention still on the scroll. “You probably already know that.”

“Yes, of course,” Rumplestiltskin lied. He coughed and waved his hand, he’d hoped that she would be able to translate it and it seemed he was right, but it wouldn’t do to betray that weakness in his knowledge. “Talk me through it anyway.”

“Ok.” Belle beamed, a blush rising on her cheeks.

There was an odd look in her eyes which Rumplestiltskin couldn’t identify, so he decided it wasn’t important. It was a shame really that Belle was trapped in this sleeping curse. Idly he wondered what would have happened if Belle had called upon him for a deal to take care of Maleficent. Would he have learned of her linguistic talents in time to know she was the true treasure of Avonlea? He could have demanded her as his price and had a very capable research assistant. Rumplestiltskin shoved the fantasy away, Belle would have been miserable trapped in the Dark Castle.

She would have been an actual prisoner, as opposed to just feeling like a prisoner, and it would have crushed her spirit. The Dark Castle would have become her land of nightmares and regrets. This was better, for all that it wasn’t real. He didn’t want to be the monster in her nightmares. Usually he enjoyed inspiring fear in nobility, they’d made him kiss their boots as a peasant and revenge could be sweet, but Belle wasn’t like that. She was what nobility should be like. She treated him like he wasn’t a beast, like he was just an ordinary man. Belle laughed at his jokes, rolled her eyes when he embraced the imp, and looked straight at him.

Most people never made eye contact but it was like his unnatural appearance didn’t even register for her. She willingly touched him, a slight brush against his hand when they reached for the same thing, or light pressure against his arm when they were talking. Belle was tactile, reaching out for him, it was behavior he’d observed but never experienced. It was like she was comfortable with him, something he’d rarely experienced even as a spinner due to his reputation, and he would miss that when their time was over.

Belle launched into an explanation, pointing at various points of the text as she translated. Rumplestiltskin listened, this was something he wanted to know after all, but half of his attention was on Belle herself and not what she was saying. He was so caught up in listening to her, and watching her expressions flicker across her face - oh she was so animated and expressive - that he didn’t notice the time.

Rumplestiltskin squeaked, watching Belle’s eyes widen as he disappeared before her very eyes. He opened his eyes, and grimaced, seeing Belle’s prone sleeping form in front of him. Belle always missed his arrival because it was unexpected, and he covered his disappearance with a pretend swirl of magic. Just popping out of existence was harsh, and would seem unnatural even for those not familiar with magic. He ached to return to her immediately, to reassure her that all was well, but it was useless.

Time moved differently in the dream world and it would be an unknown amount of time for Belle, even if he sprinkled dust on her this second. Not that he could use the dream dust now, magic didn’t just come at a price, it had limitations. He couldn’t use the dust for another couple of days, right now the magic would be as useless as sprinkling actual dust on her form. Rumplestiltskin cursed and transported himself back to the Dark Castle, to his spinning wheel. This was all his fault anyway for getting distracted.

He would go back once more to reassure her but that would be the last visit. Indulging his curiosity had been a mistake, and he couldn’t even pretend it was about that anymore. One last time and then he had to let her go. Just one last visit and then he would leave her to her eternal slumber, for what else could he do? He was the Dark One, a monster and a beast, perhaps an adventuring prince would one day find her in the forest, hack down the vines and they would have their happily ever after. He was immortal so he might even be around to see it.

The wheel started to turn, easing the pain in his chest. Belle deserved the very best and he was sure that fate would one day balance the scales on her sacrifice. Someday her prince _would_ come.


	3. Chapter 3

“Rumple!”

Rumplestiltskin froze, utterly stunned and awash with sensations. He’d barely blinked into existence within the dream world and ... Belle was hugging him. Belle’s arms were around his neck, her body pressed full length against his. He could feel her breath against his neck. His hands hovered at his sides, and he could feel how stiff he was in her embrace, but he hadn’t been expecting it - he _couldn’t_ have expected it.

“I was so worried,” Belle murmured. “You just disappeared.”

“Worried about me? Strange girl,” Rumplestiltskin quipped fondly.

Belle stepped back, her arms sliding over his shoulders, until they were back in front of her. It was the longest moment of his life, and then she wasn’t touching him any longer and it’s like all the warmth went with her. The magic had dressed him in a blue silk shirt today, something which he’d never worn outside the Dark Castle. Belle had touched him before briefly, but being in her arms was something else entirely. He’d been too shocked to properly appreciate it and then it was over. He hadn’t been touched with kindness in so long, and he hadn’t missed it, but the brief taste made him almost physically ache. If he could just hold her again, then he could properly memorize it, and the ghost of that memory would sustain him for the next hundred years.

“I ... I have a ball to attend later,” Rumplestiltskin lied in a fit of inspiration, doing a dramatic flourish to cover his nerves. “Help me practice?”

“Oh erm ...” Belle blushed. “I’d love that but I’m not a good dancer, Gaston says I have two left feet and his horse has more grace.”

Rumplestiltskin frowned, that great lummox was hardly light on his feet. He clicked his fingers, conjuring a gramophone, another click and Belle’s simple blue and white dress transformed into a replica of the golden dress she was wearing in the real world. It wasn’t a ball gown, there was no hoop skirt, but it was more appropriate for a ball. Belle gave a pleased gasp, and his lips twitched a smile threatening to form.

“Gold,” Belle whispered, rubbing the fabric between her fingers.

“I can change it...” Rumplestiltskin raised his arm and twirled his hand.

Belle shook her head. “No I like it.”

She smiled and stepped forward, sliding her hand up his chest to rest against his shoulder. Rumplestiltskin swallowed, even the gentle pressure of her hand through his silk shirt, it was like he was being scalded. Nervously he looked down at her other hand, with her pale perfect skin, and then at his beastly paw, with the unnatural skin and blackened nails. He recoiled from touching her and he didn’t understand why she wasn’t recoiling from him.

The next thing he knew, Belle’s hand was soft, her fingers tangling with his. Gingerly he placed his other hand around her, barely touching her back. Belle sighed and he tensed, his heart jumping, but a panicked couple of beats later he realized it hadn’t been a noise of protest. Briefly he met her eyes. His brow creased in confusion as he saw an amused smile steal across Belle’s face. Then the eerie ringing in his ears registered, the silence becoming deafeningly loud. He clicked his fingers and the music started.

Rumplestiltskin took a breath and then they started to dance. It was slow, matching the melodic instrumental strains coming from the gramophone. Belle’s skirt rustled as she turned, in a whirl around his outstretched arm. Belle’s quarters were large but there wasn’t much free space, just a small square in between the coffee table and the bookcase. They waltzed around and he closed his eyes, drinking in the sensations of Belle soft against him, her light flowery scent surrounding him, her warmth leeching through to his cold heart.

“I thought you said you weren’t a good dancer?” Rumplestiltskin teased.

“I guess I was just waiting for the right partner,” Belle murmured.

Their eyes met. Belle leaned in. Rumplestiltskin panicked.

He stepped back, his mouth opening and closing as he tried and failed to find words. In the end he just gestured, smoke obscuring his exit. Belle’s confused and hurt expression burning into his mind as he left her. Back in the real world Rumplestiltskin staggered, he technically hadn’t been anywhere but he felt out of breath and weak. He reached for the bier to steady himself, feeling the silky material of Belle’s dress brush against his fingertips.

It couldn’t be, it couldn’t. A soft moan, like a wounded animal tore from his throat, as he looked at his hand on the bier. He was a beast, a monster, the fearsome Dark One - Rumplestiltskin, the man nobody loved. Belle was goodness and light, brave and intelligent, beautiful and bold; she wasn’t perfect but that only made her more perfect.

Curiosity had led him down this path. He hadn’t been looking for love.

Rumplestiltskin raised his hand, pulling up the magic to transport himself back to the Dark Castle, but he stopped. The threads of magic fading away like wisps on the summer wind. He couldn’t leave. He wanted to leave - he was desperate to leave. He wanted to run, to deny that Belle had been going to kiss him - him! The beast, the monster, the Dark One. He had quipped sometimes that he _‘had that effect on women’_ but it was all posturing. Nobody had ever truly desired him, not even his ex-wife and Belle was so young and beautiful and brilliant.

This couldn’t be real. It would never work. Why was he even considering that it might? He groaned again, tearing at his hair. It would be so simple just to teleport away and never look back. That’s what he should do because Belle was a princess, and he was a beast, and this entire agonizing debate was pointless anyway. Although with that thought - if it was so pointless, then might he as well make the attempt? If there was the slightest chance, he couldn’t leave her trapped in the sleeping curse. Belle deserved to be free.

He ... he loved her.

“It’ll never work. No-one could ever, ever love me,” Rumplestiltskin whispered but he bent down anyway and pressed his lips chastely against Belle’s.

Rumplestiltskin felt the magic surge even before there was a tell-tale rainbow pulse in the air. He stumbled back, startled and Belle gasped, taking her first breath in months. Her eyes flew open as she bolted upright and she stared at him.

“I knew it was you!” Belle exclaimed, a smile spreading across her face. She held her hand towards him and Rumplestiltskin lurched forward as if compelled. “I remember everything.”

His hand had just slid into hers when the clearing swelled with magic. Rumplestiltskin stiffened, seeing Maleficent materialize in a swirl of smoke, fury etched on her face.

“You!” Maleficent roared.

“Yes dearie?” Rumplestiltskin raised an eyebrow.

He might be shocked senseless, reeling from the pulse of light - from true loves kiss, but Maleficent was still no match for him and she knew it. He didn’t fear the dragon witch and no harm would befall Belle while he still drew breath. Although it wasn’t as if Belle had needed his help last time, she was strong and capable on her own, but she probably didn’t have any pouches of fairy dust up her sleeve this time.

“ _You’re_ no Prince Charming,” Maleficent sneered.

Her eyes still glittered with anger but her incandescent rage faded. Rumplestiltskin smirked as he realized why, Belle had dealt for the safety of Avonlea - and Belle was very much part of Avonlea. Maleficent couldn’t touch her, it ended with the sleeping curse and that had just been broken. He shook his head lightly, true love he could scarcely believe it. How could anyone, let alone someone as wonderful as Belle love _him_?

“That’s a different story.” Belle smiled, twisting so that she was sitting up on the edge of the bier.

Maleficent snorted. “What’s this one then? Beauty and the Beast?”

Instinctively Rumplestiltskin squeezed Belle’s hand, tensing at the word _beast_ because Maleficent was right. There was so much they hadn’t said and possibilities started to flood his mind. That had been their first kiss, and while he had always thought true love must mean true acceptance - loving all of someone, nobody could love him if they truly knew him. Once he told her everything, there was no way Belle would want to be with him.

The selfish, dark part of him, wanted to keep his secrets, wanted to put on a show of being the man Belle wanted but in his heart he knew that wouldn’t work forever. Sooner or later it would all come crumbling down, everything he touched he destroyed. Belle smiled again and Rumplestiltskin frowned slightly, seeing the steel behind the expression for the first time. There was no warmth, it was cold and polite.

“I really hope you’ll find your happiness Maleficent.” Belle stood, tugging lightly so he followed her. “Do let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. After all...” Belle’s polite smile widened. “It is thanks to _you_ that Rumple and I found one another.” Belle let go of his hand and strode out of the clearing, her head held high.

Maleficent watched her walk away, and shook her head in admiration. “Now _that_ is how you execute revenge.”

“Maleficent,” Rumplestiltskin growled in warning.

“I know, it’s over. Your ... true love saw to that already.” Maleficent sighed. “I always knew the sleeping curse would break one day, curses are designed to be broken but I never thought it would be this soon, or that _you_ would ... it’s just as well. Her willingness did rather ruin the satisfaction.”

Maleficent gestured, a swirl of smoke transporting her away. Rumplestiltskin took a deep breath and strode across the clearing, utterly unsurprised to find Belle waiting for him just out of view. For a long moment they just stared at one another. He was still struggling to believe what had happened. Their time together in the dream world had been amazing, that’s why he kept coming back, but he’d never thought they’d have more than that. Now Belle was awake and reality was intruding.

“Rumple will the true loves kiss have reached the castle?” Belle asked.

“Ah ... yes, maybe,” Rumplestiltskin stuttered, it wasn’t like he had a lot of experience with light magic.

True love was a rare thing, it was the most powerful of all magic, and the thought that he had been blessed with it was making his mind loop, he just couldn’t believe it was true. He’d made the attempt, believing firmly that it wouldn’t work, but because he cared for Belle he’d felt compelled to try. He’d expected failure and he didn’t quite know how to deal with success. It was hard to think. He had no idea what to do now.

“Can you take us there?” Belle continued, holding out her hand.

Rumplestiltskin nodded and gestured quickly, engulfing them both in smoke, transporting them to the royal castle of Avonlea.

*****

Belle blinked as the smoke cleared, showing that Rumplestiltskin had transported them into the council chamber. There was a small throne in one corner, which in the kingdoms better days was center stage. However, the room hadn’t been changed since the desperate days when Maleficent had been burning villages, and it was still dominated by the large war table. It was around that table that her mother and father, Gaston and several council members were standing.

“Mother, Father,” Belle called, striding forward more into the center of the room.

“Belle!” Collette gasped, lurching forward before gathering herself.

Demurely she walked the few steps that separated them. Belle felt her mothers hand shake slightly as they gently squeezed her shoulders. There was a faint brush of Collette’s lips against her cheek and then her mother stepped back. Just once Belle wished that her mother could throw protocol out the window and hug her properly, the way she sometimes still did when they were alone. It was something Belle had feared would become of her, once she married Gaston and became queen, the complete loss of self. Her mothers behavior was likely too ingrained after years of being Queen, and Belle could feel the weight of the councils disapproving stares. They had questions - they always had questions.

“What happened? There was a pulse of magic, is that what woke you?” Collette asked.

Belle looked past her mother, to her father, Gaston and the council members. She twisted and saw Rumplestiltskin standing uncomfortably in the corner where they had arrived. His presence had already been noted and Belle could see two of the councilors muttering darkly to each other. Rumplestiltskin looked uneasy and Belle wished they’d had more time to talk. He’d never said much about himself but she could tell that he was lonely. The true loves kiss had given her an incredible amount of reassurance, comfort and certainty, but she could tell that it wasn’t the same for him.

He was still so painfully unsure, and Belle felt a flash of irritation course through her, as she remembered again Maleficent’s quip about him being a beast. Still they had the rest of their lives to get everything sorted. Given his answer, that the pulse of magic would have been felt in Avonlea, she hadn’t wanted to delay in talking with her people. The deal she had made with Maleficent had ended the dragon witches tyranny of Avonlea, but only now that she had woken from Maleficent’s last act of revenge, was the nightmare truly over. It was a new beginning.

A happy beginning was now theirs.

“Yes.” Belle nodded, feeling a smile stretch across her face. She reached out a hand towards Rumplestiltskin, he took one shaky step forward but that was it. “Mother, Father, honored members of the council, I would like to introduce you to Rumplestiltskin. My Prince Consort, my chosen, my true love.”

“Now wait my girl you are betrothed to Gaston,” Maurice spluttered. “You are certainly not married to this ... this beast.”

“He’s not a beast father,” Belle stated, her voice acquiring an edge. “As for marriage, I would say our true loves kiss, which woke me from my eternal sleep, proves our bond. True loves kiss is surely a demonstration far stronger than any marriage ceremony.”

Belle raised her head imperiously, drawing on all her training to stare them down. She was their future Queen after all and Dark One or not, surely they couldn’t deny true loves kiss? True love was rare, it was something that most people sadly weren’t blessed with. There were those that spent their entire life searching for it, Belle had never thought she would meet her true love, and had been resigned to hoping for contentment in her marriage and fairly certain she wouldn’t even have that. True love was pure and magical, it had to outweigh any petty prejudices based on Rumplestiltskin’s reputation. Just from spending a small amount of time with him, Belle was fairly certain his reputation was enhanced, he certainly wasn’t the scourge of the realms as some claimed.

“As future queen ...” Belle continued.

“But you’re not,” Gaston interrupted, surprising Belle as she had expected him to say something long before now. A self-satisfied smirk played across his lips and her heart sank. “With you in the sleeping curse, unable to be woken, your father was forced to make other plans for the throne.”

“Gaston was to be king anyway, it seemed only fitting to name him as my successor,” Maurice confirmed.

Belle looked between them all. Her mother looked abashed, her eyes cast down to the floor but she didn’t speak a word of protest. Her father looked resolute and Belle swallowed, feeling her hand curl into a fist. This was some of her worst nightmares come true. Gaston would have been her Prince Consort - never King, but that wasn’t how either he nor her father had seen it. Gaston wasn’t a cruel man but he was egotistical, he didn’t like to listen, and she feared what would become of her people under his leadership.

“You being in love with the Dark One explains much,” Gaston added. “It explains why nobody could wake you. There’s something wrong with you, something evil, perhaps that’s why Maleficent retreated. If you had loved us, then we could have woken you.”

“That’s not true,” Belle gasped. “I sacrificed myself for Avonlea! I love this kingdom.”

Even as she said the words Belle could tell her argument was going to be in vain. Their hearts were hardened against her, they weren’t going to listen, they had made up their minds long ago. Their failure to wake her was obviously her fault, it couldn’t possibly be theirs, and loving Rumplestiltskin only confirmed their beliefs. It was so unfair, so prejudiced, and so wrong, and Belle knew that she shouldn’t have expected any different - but she’d hoped. She could see the fury rising on Rumplestiltskin’s face, but him lashing out in her defense would only make this worse, it would only serve to offer proof to their otherwise baseless accusations. She wasn’t evil and their love wasn’t wrong.

Belle shook her head, she’d sacrificed everything for Avonlea, and she would do it again in a heartbeat. This did make her wonder slightly why she’d bothered but the second that question crossed her mind she knew the answer - that’s what heroes did. She had always wanted to be a hero, to try and live up to that ideal. Heroes helped people, even if those people weren’t grateful. It wasn’t about thanks, it was just about doing the right thing. However, perhaps there was a limit to the amount of sacrificing someone should do.

She cared deeply about her people, and she was concerned for how they would fare under Gaston’s leadership, but then he was no worse than her father. The situation in Avonlea might not improve, but the people’s circumstance wouldn’t worsen. Belle’s lip trembled, did she even have a choice at all? Her father’s mind was made up, Gaston would be king in name and fact. Whatever hope she’d had of exerting any influence was now gone. There was really nothing she could do, even if she stayed and tried to argue for her position. She was never going to be queen. She’d lost her kingdom, in the same moment that she had saved it.

“Rumple, take me home,” Belle requested, surprising herself at how strong and calm her voice was.

Right now she didn’t feel strong and calm, she felt weak and lost. It had been foolish to have such hope that they would understand, because she knew these people better than that. She supposed it had been wishful thinking more than anything else. She had wanted them to be better, and thought that if she had hoped hard enough then everything would be alright.

Belle felt Rumplestiltskin stride over to her. She could see him glaring daggers at everyone in the room, before gesturing sharply. The smoke whisked them away to the entrance hall of a different castle - his castle and her new home.


	4. Chapter 4

Rumplestiltskin was spitting mad. It had taken everything in him not to turn the miserable lot of them into snails, and crush them under his boot. Only the certain knowledge that Belle wouldn’t approve had stayed his hand. After all Belle had shown Maleficent, her enemy who had destroyed entire villages, mercy. Ungrateful wretches the lot of them, they called themselves Belle’s friends and family and then spat on her sacrifice. He couldn’t blame Belle for wanting to get away from them, and so he had brought her here, he had brought her - home.

His fingers rubbed together nervously. Belle had requested that he took her home, and as they had been _at_ her home already it was obvious she had some place else in mind, but that didn’t necessarily mean _his_ home. That had been presumptuous of him. Rumplestiltskin opened his mouth to offer to take Belle anywhere she wished to go, when he heard the heavy clunk of a door being pushed open. He trailed after Belle as she entered the great hall, and glanced around. He had a lot of trinkets on display on pedestals, he thought she’d probably find those interesting but he wasn’t sure whether the rest of the place would meet with her approval. He regarded the dust with a critical eye, magic kept the place relatively clean but it wasn’t good with the fine detail.

Belle turned to look at him. “It’s so dark in here.”

“Well it is the dark castle dearie,” Rumplestiltskin quipped.

“Ah of course.” Belle laughed, and wandered over to the windows. She tugged on the curtains before shooting him an amused and exasperated expression. “Did you nail them down?”

“Yes,” Rumplestiltskin confirmed hesitantly. “When ... you said you wanted to go home ...”

“Home, with you.” Belle smiled, wandering over and taking both of his hands into hers. She glanced back over to the curtains. “We can deal with the curtains tomorrow. What time is it?”

“Ah, probably dinner time. You must be hungry after the curse.” Rumplestiltskin waved his hand and suddenly the table was practically groaning with a veritable feast. He had no idea what she liked and so there was something of everything.

Belle’s eyes widened. “We can eat _and_ talk I guess, and we do need to talk Rumple.”

The next thing Rumplestiltskin knew he was sitting in his customary seat at the head of the table, and Belle had dragged her chair so it was almost on the corner. She put some food on her plate, and after he didn't make a move to do the same, put food on his plate as well. She squeezed his hand gently and smiled. He had a feeling Belle smiled a lot, it was something he’d noticed about her in the dream world. A smile to Belle wasn’t just that she was happy, it could mean a lot of different things, and this smile had a slight sad tinge to it. A lump grew in his throat, as he mentally cursed her family once again. Belle deserved better than them - she deserved better than _him_.

“I love you,” Belle said suddenly. Rumplestiltskin dropped his fork onto his plate. “That’s what true loves kiss means, we love one another.”

“You don’t know ... a few cups of tea ... once you know me, you won’t like what you find,” Rumplestiltskin warned.

Belle sighed and grabbed his hand again. “We have a lifetime to get to know one another, and the magic wouldn’t have sparked if we didn’t love each others true selves. You saw me for who I truly am, when you brought that scroll to translate ...” She shook her head. “You listen to me, you care about what I think ...”

“You’re incredible Belle,” Rumplestiltskin murmured, casting his gaze down at the table, wincing at the sight of their hands together. “I’m a difficult man to love.”

“Love isn’t supposed to be easy, it should be layered, a mystery to be uncovered,” Belle said earnestly. “You’re supposed to be the sorcerer here, you must know that true loves kiss requires both parties to feel the same. It’s not just you that loves who I truly am, I love who _you_ truly are. Details do matter but as I said we have ... forever.”

Rumplestiltskin swallowed. He knew he should say something but he wasn’t sure what to say. It was all just too incredible to believe. Belle didn’t seem to be perturbed by his silence and he watched as she took several bites of dinner. She was right about true loves kiss, that was how it worked, it was the rarest and simultaneously the most well known magic in all the land. Everyone hoped to be blessed with it and his mind just stuttered and froze when he considered that it had happened to him. He was a monster, a beast, and before the darkness he’d been no prize; beneath the magic he was still a cowardly spinner. How could anyone love that?

“Were you born the dark one?” Belle asked.

“No,” Rumplestiltskin answered slowly, unease bubbling up inside him as his blood ran cold. Belle cocked her head curiously, obviously having noticed his reaction. “It’s _technically_ a curse.”

His power was born from a curse. What had happened earlier, it had definitely been true loves kiss. As much as he was denying it was possible, it was undeniable; that was the only thing that could have woken Belle from the sleeping curse, and the pulse of magic was unmistakable. True loves kiss should have broken the curse of the dark one, so why hadn’t it? What was even more frightening is that he hadn’t even thought about his power at all.

He’d been so consumed with doubt over whether it would even work, and so certain that he had to try anyway because Belle didn’t deserve to suffer, that he hadn’t even considered the consequences. This was why love was weakness, he didn’t often miss things, and when he did it was always because his emotions had taken hold. If he’d lost his power ... he shuddered at the possibility, and ruthlessly forced his mind to focus on why that hadn’t happened, so as not to think about the disaster being rendered powerless would have been.

“Perhaps ... true loves kiss,” Rumplestiltskin stuttered. “Perhaps it can only break one curse at a time.”

Belle shrugged. “Or maybe it’s not a curse.” He frowned at her, he’d just told her it was a curse. On his look she continued. “You said _technically_ it’s a curse. Presumably breaking a curse requires intent, and I fell in love with you as you are. If you want to break it ...”

“No, no,” Rumplestiltskin said hastily.

“Then that’s settled.” Belle smiled.

Rumplestiltskin forgot to breathe as she reached over, cupping his cheek with her palm. Her hand was so soft and warm, and he couldn’t help but lean into her touch. He was still utterly shell-shocked by the events of the day. Instinctively he wanted to label everything a trick because nobody could actually love _him_ , but he’d felt true loves kiss. Even now he could feel the magic inside his heart, warming him from the inside when he’d been so cold for so long.

After a moment Belle took her hand back and resumed eating her dinner. Rumplestiltskin forced himself to eat, in between sneaking awed glances at her. If it hadn’t been for the magic then he would have thought this was a dream. That somehow the dream dust had sent him into a dream world of his own. Villains didn’t get happy endings, and he was the beast - the Dark One. How could this be happening to him?

“What are you thinking?” Belle asked, reaching out to cover his hand with hers again. “I know that this is a big adjustment - for the both of us. True loves kiss doesn’t guarantee a happily ever after, that only happens in stories. This is more a ... a happy beginning. Does that sound right?”

“That sounds perfect,” Rumplestiltskin agreed hoarsely. He gestured to her empty plate with his free hand. “Are you finished?”

“Yes, it was lovely. What will happen to ...” Belle gestured to the table which was still groaning with food.

“Magic,” Rumplestiltskin quipped, waving his hand and banishing the food with a puff of smoke.

It took as much effort magically to keep the food safe for future consumption, as it did to transport it elsewhere. He couldn’t abide waste, too many years of going hungry as a spinner, but it would ruin his reputation if he started sending food to poor villages. He was the Dark One and the Dark One did nothing for free - all magic came with a price. Thinking of magic, his lips quirked as an idea came to him, something he thought Belle would like.

“A full tour can wait until the morning but there is something I think you’d like to see,” Rumplestiltskin teased, as he stood up from the table.

Belle held out her hand and he hesitantly took it, gently holding it as he led her from the great hall. The Dark Castle could be quite the labyrinth, but then that could be said for a lot of castles as it made for a good structural security measure. He took her the most direct way he knew to the East tower. It had been empty until a few minutes ago, but magic could do much, and really it was long overdue. There were countless books in various storage rooms all over the Dark Castle, he hoarded knowledge and would regularly accept tomes in deals but he’d never bothered to do anything with them. Not until now, when his magic summoned them all and created a library that he hoped would please Belle.

He threw open the door and blinked, impressed despite himself. He hadn’t realized he had quite that many books. They stretched up on shelves high into the tower, rolling ladders providing access to the higher ones. The shelves were only half full but then there were probably a lot of gaps in his collection. He collected books of knowledge, not books of story, but he would remedy that in the next few days. Perhaps he would visit Avonlea's royal castle, Belle should have her own things and if the dream world was accurate, she had quite the book collection in her room. He was sure she would like to keep that.

“It’s ... it’s beautiful.” Reverently Belle ran her hand along the spines of the books on the nearest shelf. “There’s more books in here than I could read in a lifetime.”

“Well you probably won’t want to read _all_ of them,” Rumplestiltskin said uncomfortably, relishing the look of wonder on Belle’s face even as he ran from the implied praise. This had been a _good_ idea. “A lot of esoteric magic, some of it could be dangerous.”

“I’ll be careful,” Belle promised softly. “Perhaps we could read sometimes together? Or ... what do you like to do with your free time?”

“I spin, I like to watch the wheel,” Rumplestiltskin replied, impulsively waving his hand.

With a puff of smoke the spinning wheel from his tower was transported into the library. He still had the larger spinning wheel in the great hall, he was sure Belle had noticed it earlier. He watched as her eyes moved between him and the wheel, and then she beamed, striding over and hugging his arm.

“That’s perfect Rumple,” Belle murmured.

“Yes, well, it’s not ... it’s getting late. I’ll show you to your quarters.”

Rumplestiltskin took a step forward, feeling Belle’s fingers tangle with his again as she grabbed his hand. He swallowed, he didn’t think he would ever get used to Belle willingly touching him. He didn’t reach for her, he didn’t dare, but Belle clearly had no such reservations. It was jarring, Maleficent was right they were beauty and the beast, and it was probably the coward in him talking but he couldn’t pull away.

Her touch brought him more peace than spinning ever had, the voices fading to nothing as if they couldn’t bear her brilliant light. However, all too soon they were outside the room that now belonged to Belle, and Rumplestiltskin knew he had to let her go until morning, when maybe she would reach for his hand again as he gave her the full tour of the Dark Castle.

“These are your quarters.” Rumplestiltskin pushed the door open, showing a room just as large and ornate as the one Belle had called her own back in Avonlea.

“Where are yours?” Belle asked curiously.

Rumplestiltskin pointed across the corridor and Belle let go of his hand, striding over and pushing the door open. Nervously he licked his lips. His magic had prepared Belle’s quarters for her based on his memories of her quarters in Avonlea, but maybe that wasn’t a good memory for her now. He didn’t use his quarters much because he didn’t need to sleep, and staring at the ceiling lost in memories and regrets held little appeal, and so if Belle preferred his room then it was hers. Belle wandered into the room and hesitantly he followed, keeping several paces behind her.

Belle turned and smiled at him, bringing her hair over one shoulder, baring the creamy skin of her neck to his gaze. “Help me with my dress?”

His hands fluttered helplessly, as he took a couple of steps forward. Belle was a princess, she was used to maids, and Maleficent had dressed her in this golden monstrosity with magic. It was only natural that Belle would require aid. Rumplestiltskin lifted his hand to magic Belle into a simpler garment, but she grabbed his hand, a trace of nervousness flashing across her face.

“I meant what I said earlier. True loves kiss is more binding than any ceremony so it is our wedding night,” Belle explained. Rumplestiltskin’s jaw dropped and Belle’s expression turned uncertain. “If you aren’t ready then we don’t have to but I do confess a certain ... curiosity.”

Rumplestiltskin laughed, he couldn’t help it, curiosity is what had started them down this road. If he hadn’t been curious about Belle then they wouldn’t be here, and she would still be trapped in an eternal sleep. Belle pulled her hand back, her face falling and Rumplestiltskin winced at her hurt expression, she’d misunderstood his laughter.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, it’s just what you said, this is like a dream come true. I really can’t believe ...” Rumplestiltskin struggled but to his relief Belle smiled again.

Belle took a slow step forward and threw her arms around his neck, resting her forehead against his. “Kiss me?” Gingerly Rumplestiltskin brushed his lips against hers, feeling the spark of true love hum in his veins. Breathlessly Belle laughed, her nerves fading away. “Kiss me again, it’s working.”

Magic pooled in his hands, the stiff-boned golden dress disappearing, leaving Belle in her soft white shift. A genuine smile crossed Rumplestiltskin’s face, and impulsively he scooped Belle into his arms, turning towards the bed. A large part of him was still standing in the doorway, slack-jawed and stunned at Belle’s talk of ‘their wedding night’, but the rest of him felt the magic and warmth of true love. They had the rest of their lives and it all started tonight.

A happy beginning now was theirs.


End file.
